I went outside before bedtime like I always do, it’s late, and the world feels quiet. The sky is clear and filled with stars. There’s a meteor shower tonight, the Geminid. I gazed up into the night for a small amount of time, and saw at least eight before I stopped counting. One was especially bright, and directly overhead. It felt so close that I actually ducked a little. I love the surprise of their sudden appearance. The trick is to be happy with just letting yourself get lost in the magnificence before you, and then whoosh, a streak goes flying by. It’s yours if you see it, a gift from the universe. I quickly say a wish-prayer for each one. I live for these moments when I witness something outside of myself that connects me to the divine. I have been on guard for much of my life, weaving to and fro, trying to stay out of the line of fire from whatever threats lurk in the unknown. I have become numb to the almost normalcy of it all. So when there is a pause, a brief interlude of time, that takes me out of my simmering unease, and into the healing light of holiness, I grab on to it quickly and store it tightly in my hand. And later, when the shadows return, when I am trying to hold back the darkness, I will suddenly remember, and unfurl my fingers to release this healing light back into the night.